


Siren Sounds

by worldturtling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Jealous Castiel, M/M, Pirates, Protective Castiel, Sharing Clothes, Sirens, siren!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldturtling/pseuds/worldturtling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel may be a mercenary on a pirate ship, but he’s not about to let a boy drown without being rescued, in the middle of the world, (especially on such a cold night)(especially such a beautiful boy)</p><p>The cook may have another idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siren Sounds

**Author's Note:**

> My lovely beta is dykeswithbikes@tumblr

“Dean,” he had said when Castiel had asked his name for the third time.

A naked man at sea so far from shore, so far from any boats they’d yet to sack; he must certainly be from a disaster. He must be, to be so unsure on his feet, with wide green eyes looking around the vessel like it was a foreign land.

Well, Castiel supposed, it technically was.

And pulling him out of the water stark naked had been something shocking too. The crew members had been loud and jeering but Castiel shut them up with a stern word and a look. He only answered to the captain and was not as expendable as some of them.

He was not so crude in thought as to give this young boy to a crew of seasoned pirates with a history of disgusting murders in their wake. The boy looked barely above the age of fifteen*, cracked dry lips and a pallid complexion, freckles stood in stark contrast to his white cheeks. Castiel took the cloak he wore on board and immediately wrapped it around him. They weren't as close to the colder waters as they had been, but they weren't as close to the southern waters either. The captain liked to maintain them in a central deep sea location that was rare for village vessels to reach. Supplies were scarce here and water prized. A stowaway would be viewed negatively unless he proved of use. When the crew found Castiel helping Dean on board, he thought quickly, explained it was his servant boy that he had escaped and no one should dare go looking for him in his quarters.

The hungry looks in the sailors’ eyes were a disturbing sight for Castiel. But when he looked at Dean, slim and naked and wrapped in Castiel’s worn, dirty, velvet red cloak, he returned the sailors’ stares equally. He returned it with a darker look, his pupils almost blown, lips parted and soft shallow puffs of breath escaping from them with steady calm.

Castiel had frowned and held Dean’s shoulder, guided him to his tiny cabin.

“Don’t mind them,” he told Dean as they ascended the steps. “They would not defy me lest they face their captain’s wrath.”

Dean hadn’t looked at him, only stared blankly ahead, or been looking down. He stumbled; Castiel held onto his arm tightly but gently, to keep him from falling.

Castiel unlocked his cabin, and Dean looked around, face impassive.

“I know it’s not much, but it’s better than the brig,” Castiel said apologetically, “You may have my bed; I will speak with the captain to ensure there’s no trouble for you. We will transport you to the next harbor as soon as possible.”

Castiel withdrew. As he closed the door Dean turned around sharply, eyes wide.

“I’ll return soon,” Castiel assured him.

—

The captain was less than pleased with Castiel’s news that he’d found a stowaway. Castiel argued he was taking charge of the boy, and then the captain had gotten a lascivious look in his eyes that made Castiel’s mouth taste foul.

“You may play the white knight, Castiel, but you have a black heart same as us. One day you’ll need to stop pretending you belong to some noble ranks. God knows no such thing exists anyways.”

Castiel clenched his jaw. Captain Crow sat back down at his long dining table, and the cook entered the room and brought his meal.

“Keep your whore boy, but anymore stowaways and I start sending them down under, understood?”

“Yes captain,” Castiel gritted out.

Captain Crow smirked, black eyes amused, and dismissed him.

—————————-

Castiel enters his quarters, and the room is dark. The stream of moonlight from the plated window outlines a shadow on his bed.

“I’m sorry for di-”

Dean sits up, Castiel’s cloak pooling around his waist and parting at his thighs. His eyes glow and his skin has an eerie white outline from the shadows. Castiel closes the door behind him. He can make the shape of his shoulder, spots of freckles peppering his arms, his back.

Dean holds a lean arm out to him. His palms are open, and the space between the door and the bed is very small. Castiel only needs to lean down for Dean’s hand, his soft palm, to press against his cheek, feel the stubble of his seaman’s beard. Castiel feels too dirty suddenly to be in such a presence, to view such beauty in one being. But Dean cups his other cheek and pulls him down, spreads his thighs so Castiel can have a space to put his knee.

His voice is raspy when it comes out.

“This wasn’t my intention…” He can’t finish the last word because his lips are pulled against Dean’s, and for their cracked and salty flavor, Dean’s mouth is welcoming and warm and wet. Castiel finds his tongue and they mingle against each other. He falls further into bed with Dean guiding him down on top of him, tugging at his tunic and his drawstrings.

Dean pulls back, looking up at him with such bright captivating eyes that Castiel can’t look away from. He wants to be swallowed in this feeling, wants to fall into him, into the planes of his body while he rests on his sheets, smelling like him, naked for him.

Dean’s hands move over the front of his breeches. They glide over his thighs, outlining his cock, and Castiel says yes. Castiel wants to hear the most beautiful noises from Dean.

Dean moans, or maybe it’s Castiel above him, and they both work at shoving his pants down.

Castiel looks away from his face, as much as he doesn’t want to, and sees this boy’s cock, looks at the perfectly round and smooth ass. Dean is hard already, Castiel has barely laid a hand on him and the sight is -

Dean touches him and he loses his train of thought, runs a thumb over the head, smoothed over the foreskin, caresses the base of his cock and squeezes gently, like…

He groans. Dean’s hand runs under his shirt over his side. Castiel closes his eyes and leans forward, feels the head of his cock prod behind the boy’s balls.

“I’ll make you feel good too,” he breathes, lightly thrusting between the crack of his cheeks, teasing himself, gripping the base of Dean’s dick and reveling in the lightly colored pant he hears.

“I’m ready,” Dean gasps and the words almost make Castiel pause. But he presses forward and with wide eyes feels cool wetness at Dean’s entrance.

He doesn’t have time to ask questions, he needs to be…

He needs…

He falls forward, mouth fitting against Dean’s soft lips. His hands are kneading and spreading Dean’s behind, making way for him. And then he’s pressing into Dean’s body, this naked and willing gift of beauty smooth and open and so, so warm.

He hasn’t lain with anyone in ages, hasn’t felt this comfort with a woman in longer.

He would rival the stars for beauty, this one. He would rival the sun and the moon and the earth, and he is under him, and he is hot, bare, soft, and tight around his cock like he’s begging for Castiel to stay.

Castiel moans. He moves his hips to push in, and Dean makes the quietest hiccup. His thighs press against Castiel’s side, and Castiel holds the back of one, his fingers sinking into soft flesh. Dean sighs below him. 

Hot and hotter, he feels feverish with need to be inside, feels himself being pulled. He’s heard the men slur at women about their cunts being greedy, but he’d never thought there was any truth to it until now. Never until every thrust inside this body felt like he was being dragged in further, seated more and more fully until the entirety of him was enveloped.

And Dean smells so lovely, smells like breeze and sunshine, like fresh mead and roast duck.

He looks down at Dean’s opened eyes, as open as his own and wider, and they’re staring at him. They’re glowing brighter, Castiel thinks. Can’t be, but his skin takes on a golden hue, his mouth is swollen and red. His lips open, and the sounds of his short breaths fill the room as if stealing Castiel’s own exhales from below.

He can’t stop.

It is so, so good.

He can’t stop.

He can’t…

The door bangs behind him and a strong force is jerking him back, out, cock hard and red and bouncing free from the snug warmth. He stumbles and falls against a wall.

He feels like he’s struggling for breath, like he hadn’t been breathing before, feels like he’s cooling down from impossible overheating.

He glares up.

Benny is glaring at Dean.

Dean is staring at Benny, and it dawns on Castiel that the ship’s cook may have just saved him.

——

“I should throw you overboard myself.” Benny tells Dean. Dean is now wrapped in Benny’s clothes. Castiel feels disgruntled at the sight, despite the fact that Dean was apparently a sea monster turned human that had nearly killed him.

Castiel’s still a little sore from his near death experience however, and so now he was sitting on the floor across from Benny and Dean on the bed.

“I would have stopped before death,” Cas says levelly to the room.

“You’re a blind fool,” Benny returns with severity, before looking back at Dean.

“My father died. I’m looking for my brother; he turned human a while ago.” Dean kicks his legs out half experimentally, and finishes, “I don’t have anyone outside of him.”

“I always thought sirens were a silly superstition of you sea folk.”

“Well clearly they ain’t, now shut it.” Castiel clenches his jaw and turns to look at the floor.

“I’m … sorry.” Dean says in a cracked tone, as if he had a dry throat. Castiel is surprised at how rough his voice sounds, hoarse and low, not smooth at all like Castiel had pictured. “I didn’t know that the venom was still inside me. I thought the portal would make me completely human. Like you.” He looks at Benny who is still staring hard at him and then he looks back down at his legs. His legs have a particularly strange shape, not straight but curved, with more of an inclination to spread when seated. Castiel looks at the floor again.

“Alright, Dean. I’ll give you a pass. My momma told me stories about sirens long before Cassie here was born, even about a few that walked the land.”

“You’ll help me find my brother?”

“We’ll get you to a port,” Benny corrects him softly; in such a gentle tone that Castiel almost suspected he was suddenly falling for the siren charm.

“And, Castiel?” He looks up as Dean addresses him. The candlelight certainly makes his features glow more than they probably should, but less so than when Castiel had been above him. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I don’t… I want to be human, like you, I don’t want to hurt people.”

Benny puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezes it and Dean ducks his head and blushes. Castiel feels something hot bubble in his stomach at the sight.

“Okay then, Dean, how about we get you something to eat. I know you fed off of good ol’ Cas’ life substance here but A - you ain’t doing that anymore and B - man’s barely got a sense of life as it is so you must be starved.”

Dean nods uncertainly, and lets Benny lead him away, swaddled in his giant black coat and loose trousers.

Leaving Castiel in his room with an unmade bed, hastily undone drawstrings, and little to show for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> *Dean is probably more like 17-18, think Devour!Jensen in looks though.


End file.
